


Breakaway

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Romance, Soulmates, Underage Drinking, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' life is crap after his father dies so he runs away. Derek finds Stiles on a full moon drinking in the woods and it turns out they're mates. Scott is a werewolf jerk in this, so be warned. And Derek may be a little too nice for you...but probably not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CHAPTER 1

The radio in his truck was blaring Kelly Clarkson's song Breakaway. Stiles thought it was fitting considering he was breaking away from everything and everyone. From Scott and his girlfriend—who wasn't all that great and Stiles thought was actually a bitch—and all of the drama and bullies he had to face in Beacon Hills. There wasn't any help from friends, he had none, or teachers as they thought he was acting out, and whenever he said anything about being beat up by Jackson they probably thought things like 'how could Jackson, the sweetheart and all-star really be an asshole?' or something. That's just what he assumed, anyway. It was always everyone talking down to him about not working hard enough with the responsibility of living alone, even though he had had a great job. The only reason he got fired was because Jackson was a dickhead and caused him to curse him out in front of everybody at work.

The memories in that town where he grew up were the most amazing he had, but once his father passed away he just didn't feel like the same Stiles. No one seemed to look at him twice when he tried to speak—and just why was that? You'd think that people would try to help him after going through such a tragedy, even if his dad had drank himself to death he still died and left Stiles alone. Without any guidance, or any love. There was no one to tell him 'it's going to be okay'.

He scoffed and downed a few chugs of beer. "Fuck them all."

Going to school was hard and coming home to an empty house after the hard days was even worse. It was hard without Scott, his ex-best friend. To see him act like he was on top of the world and Stiles was an ant that he ignored or taunted, it hurt him. Just because he had stupid wolf powers didn't mean Stiles was below him.

He had a breakdown earlier that afternoon as he was about to run some errands and get flowers for his parents' graves. An extremely bad one where he needed his inhaler. During said breakdown, thinking over his life here, he made the decision to leave and never look back. He'd grabbed the essentials, food and saved money, some old alcohol that belonged to his dad, and left Beacon Hills behind. He didn't take his jeep; instead he took his dad's old truck. As he was driving away he noticed the full moon shinning down on a forest, and decided to camp out and drink in the woods as a lonesome celebration, and now, as he sat in the back of the truck with his beer that he bought from a stranger at a gas station, and an old bottle of whiskey huddled in his hands, he looked up at the moon and sat in the quiet of the woods. It was nice. The music drifted in his ears. The animals were all quiet. It was the best he'd ever felt in a long time. It was somewhat depressing when he really thought about it, but Stiles didn't give one shit.

"Out of the darkness and into the sun, but I won't forget the place I come from," Kelly Clarkson's song drifted through the air.

Then his peaceful setting was shattered. He grabbed the radio in sudden anger and tossed it towards the trees, the sound of it smashing left a smile on his face and he took a big chug of beer. "I will forget this place, Kelly," he said with determination.

He froze when he heard rustling in the woods where he threw the radio. His vision was too blurry to see much. The bushes moved and he jumped up to stand on his feet, wobbling and unsteady, but he would make sure that whatever animal this was wouldn't attack without him attacking it first.

Derek watched in the shadows, hidden behind a bush, as this kid drank away and sang to crappy pop music. He had an aura of loneliness to him, and occasionally the teen would stare out into the woods or look up at the moon and just have the most miserable look on his face. He felt the need to lie beside him and make sure he didn't drink himself to death. To Derek he looked too young to be drinking in the first place. And why was the kid out in the woods, clearly without the necessities to be here, drinking alone?

Aside from the stink of booze, there was something strange Derek sensed in the air. But it was too vague to really smell. That was irritating. His nose was better in his wolf-form, and this sting of alcohol was taking away from what Derek craved to scent.

He ignored that for now. Instead he watched. And as he continued to watch, he found that he was getting a little captivated and a lot curious. He wanted to know who he was, why he was here, and how it came to this—alone and drunk in the forest. It was in those eyes, that look he got staring out at nothing, unmistakably deeply thinking, that Derek wanted to understand. And he felt—and this scared Derek because it had been a long time since he felt this—attracted to him. The kid was cute, especially when he hiccupped and nearly fell over the back of the truck in the dirt, and then he laughed at himself. Quirky. The kid was quirky. Derek never knew he would find himself attracted to a quirky teenager, but he was. He wasn't the hottest kid around, but Derek never cared about looks, and especially when it came to the lure he didn't.

The lure. When he realized he thought that he panicked. Oh shit. Oh shit. The lure. This kid was his?! As in, his?!

When he sniffed the air, he found a hint of that certain smell that drew him in, now that he knew what he was looking for. As if it was made for Derek only and no one else could smell it. But it was hidden beneath all of that liquor. If the kid hadn't been drinking, would he have ran out after him and tried to… Derek shook that away as soon as it popped up in his mind. He did have some sense of control; he would have stopped—right? He would never rape his destined.

His destined. Derek almost howled at the moon like a wild animal in joy. He had a mate. He'd only known one other wolf who'd met their mate, and Derek hadn't seen them in many moons. His grandfather taught him how to recognize the scent of the bond, but he never thought he'd actually have someone to bond with.

The kid let out a furious yell. Derek looked to see kid's eyes burning like lava. Before Derek had the chance to wonder what was wrong, he grabbed the radio and threw it into the woods, nearly hitting Derek with it. He moved to avoid getting knocked in the head, the movement causing the bushes to rustle, and the kid looked to where Derek sat with big frightened brown eyes.

"Come out or I'll throw this!" he said, standing in the truck, waving the whiskey bottle.

Derek did come out, not wanting to deny his mate, and he tried not to look as frightening as he actually looked. He sat in front of the kid and kept still, his red eyes staring up innocently.

The kid lowered his 'weapon'. He sat on his knees and motioned with his hand for Derek to come to him. "Come here, I won't hurt you."

Derek already knew that. In fact, this kid, his mate, was lucky he found him and not some other wolf—though rarely any crossed his marks.

He trotted over and sniffed the outstretched hand. Underneath the fog of alcohol he smelt rather nice, a sweet kind of scent, and there was a sense of innocence that came with that sweetness. Derek had to resist when that innocence made his dick twitch—the moon's pull on him was strong, but he was stronger. It was bestiality, and Derek refused to have sex in this form with his mate, who he didn't even know.

"Why are you out here all alone? Did you run away, too?" his mate asked. "Well, just get up here, you big doggy! I need some company!" He patted the truck as an invitation to jump up.

Derek put his paws up first and kicked up to sit next to the kid.

"M' name's Stiles. You kinda loo' li'e a wolf so I'm 'a call yah Wolfy." He grinned and nodded at that name.

They sat in silence for a while until Stiles took another drink of beer. "You know what? Today sucked." Derek made an interested noise. "I mean, it's their annivs-anersary-well, that thing!-and I can't even visit 'em 'cause I'm a wreck. Does that make me a bad son?"

This poor kid. He was drinking away his problems-though, that never actually worked. In fact, in Derek's opinion, it made things much worse. Derek licked his cheek in comfort.

Stiles laughed, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Thanks for the dog drool." He pet at the fur of Derek's neck lightly and sighed. "Scott's an asshole, Wolfy. He doesn't even fucking care anymore. He's s'pposed to be my friend, my best friend, but he just pisses me off. We're drifting apart because of this new girlfriend he got last year. She isn't all that hot anyway, so it's like, dude, whatever, I don't care! What about us? We're s'pposed to be best friends and you just ignore me and talk to me like I'm a piece of shit!"

Derek whimpered, trying to convey that he was sorry. He put his body closer to Stiles to keep him warm as his mate chugged down the last beer. Whoever this Scott guy was, he was lucky Derek didn't know him.

"She says I'm depressed and a moron and I need help. And yeah, that's totally true, but I still don't want to hear it from that bitch." He burped. "So I ran away from Beckon Hills and here I am. A loser talkin' to a giant dog in the middle of nowhere." He laughed without humor. He looked down at Derek with the saddest eyes. "Well, you're just a dog, so what do you know. 'Bout friends an' death an' stuff." He grabbed the whiskey and downed a few gulps.

Derek wished he could comment. Talk to him and say he knew more than Stiles thought. But it was the full moon and he couldn't change back.

Stiles fell backwards and Derek followed, lying beside him with his paws as a pillow. His mate rolled over on his side to look up at the night sky. "When yah wis upon a star, righ', Wolfy?" he slurred. "Why can't the blue fairy give me wishes or whate'r." He looked over at Derek. "Maybe you're her in disguise."

Derek let out a bark of rage.

Stiles just smiled. "It's nice talking to somebody. Even if yah can' talk back." His doe eyes were weary and hazy, and he closed them. "Don't go," he whispered.

Derek didn't go anywhere. He watched over him all night and kept him warm.  
\-----  
So, what do you think of my Sterek fic so far? They're almost as close to my heart as Malec, and that's not an easy spot to get haha :)

-Eve


	2. Chapter 2

The annoying chirping of birds woke up Stiles. He wished that he had his dad's gun to shoot them all. "Shut. Up." His head felt like someone was pounding it with Thor's hammer. And the sun's annoying light pierced through his closed lids, burning and torturing him even more. He rolled over to get away from the hated ball of light, and his hand ran into something warm and solid. He was in the back of a truck, right? Stiles opened his eyes to see a chest, a naked, chiseled chest. He moved his eyes upward and found his gaze meeting that of a man, a man who was nude in the back of his truck, cuddled next to him.

Stiles screamed. Did he get raped last night and not realize it? He backed away as fast as he could on his hands, doing a weird crab walk nearly falling over the end of the truck to get away from the nude dude. He pointed a shaky finger at the man who looked as alarmed as he did, and asked politely, "Who the fuck are you?"

The man looked around, ignoring him. Stiles immediately thought 'rude' until he realized the man was probably looking for something to hide himself with, because he was naked, and so he handed him a small blanket Stiles had kept for his self. The man covered his lower body with it; Stiles avoided staring there just to be nice even though he really wanted to. "My name is Derek Hale," the man announced.

Stiles crossed his arms. "Okay. I'm Stiles Stilinski. It's nice to meet you. Now I'd like to know what you're doing in my truck, and why you're naked, if you don't mind?"

The man, Derek, stared right into his eyes. "I found you last night. I was going to take you home."

To Stiles that sounded like something a criminal would do, more specifically, a rapist. It was just as he thought. Though, he didn't know why this hottie would need to rape someone. Anyone with a brain would volunteer.

Stiles let out a huff and raised his head high. "What were you going to do to me there, huh? And for that matter, when was that going to be, after you got dressed?"

Derek didn't say anything.

"Come on, just tell me. I swear I won't be mad." Unless you really were going to rape me, Stiles thought.

Derek sighed. He looked out at the woods, eyes heavy with something unnamable. Ooh, deep thinker, Stiles thought. "You wouldn't believe me."

Stiles shrugged a shoulder. "I might. But how 'bout we get out of these woods? I'm freezing, and I'm sure you are, too." He looked at Derek's chest, blushing and trying not to look at anything lower. Derek smirked too quickly for Stiles to be sure. "Um…I'd give you some clothes, but...you look a little bigger than me so…" He scratched the back of his head.

Derek shrugged. "My house isn't that far from here. I can walk."

You'll walk there butt naked? "You live in the woods?" he asked instead.

"I do."

Stiles didn't know why he was about to say this, but he found his mouth opening and these words coming out, "I can drive you."

"All right."

Stiles wasn't expecting that answer. But he was a nice guy, and it was possible Derek had pain pills, which he desperately needed. "Uh. Just…stay back here. I don't want a strange man's naked ass on my seats."

"What if it was a man you did know?"

Stiles lips twitched. "That'd be different."

Stiles wobbled off the truck, head aching, and slightly shaking in the legs. He started the truck and went back onto the road. Derek knocked on the back window. Stiles reached back and opened it. "Turn on the next dirt road and follow it all the way down."

Stiles nodded. He drove until he saw the side road, and when he got on the path he realized that this was the stupidest idea he'd ever had. This guy could be a murderer leading him home to kill him, a rapist waiting to be safe at his house to do the deed, he could be anything really and Stiles could be his next victim. But then he thought, what else am I supposed to do? He was already naked in my truck, and from what those abs are telling me there isn't anything I could do. Then he hummed with a smile, his nerves on edge at the unexpected. It's kind of exciting.

Derek knocked on the open window. "It's coming up. You'll know it when you see it."

The house he saw was old and it screamed horror movie set. Stiles pulled up close by and stopped the truck, making sure he had his keys in his front pocket just in case, as he'd seen enough movies where dumbasses forgot them in the panic and when they ran back to their car the keys were gone and then they died horribly. He did not want that to happen to him.

Derek grinned at him, and it was almost like he knew what Stiles was thinking. But his face probably showed his terror. "Don't worry, Stiles. I'm not going to kill you." Stiles swallowed a lump in his throat.

Derek jumped from the truck. "Come in if you want." Stiles watched him walk away naked, which took major confidence. His eyes were drawn to his ass. Derek's ass was all kinds of perfection. How was it so perfectly taut and tan? Derek turned around and grinned wolfishly when he caught Stiles looking, and then entered his house.

Wolfishly. There was a wolf last night that he thought was a big dog in his drunken state. That could've been a werewolf, and Stiles was 99% sure it was. But then where did…

Stiles gasped. He put the pieces together. His heart raced. He should have realized sooner. Derek was a werewolf like Scott. That was why he was naked, because last night was the full moon. Why wasn't he aware of that before? He had a werewolf best friend for years! He groaned, rubbing his temples. Sometimes he wanted to hit himself.

Why did he get so drunk in the first place and on a full moon no less?

He banged his head on the steering wheel. "Stiles. You are an idiot."

There was a knock on his side window and he jumped, nearly hitting his head on the roof. It was Derek, clothed in a tight T-shirt and faded jeans, and with a frown on his face. "You okay?"

Stiles could only be the idiot he was so many times a day. But he blurted, "Werewolf." He put his hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

Derek's eyes narrowed. "You'd better come in."

Inside wasn't warm. There wasn't any heater around that Stiles could see. The lamps were dim. The carpet looked gross and he was glad for his thick shoes so he didn't have to step on it, because it looked squishy. It looked like no one had lived here in years; everything had dust all over it. "You sure you live here? It doesn't seem very…lived in. Oh, and I forgot to ask, do you have any Advil or something? My head is literally killing me."

Derek motioned to the couch. It was one of few things that looked normal. He sat down and Derek brought him some water and an unopened packet of pills. Stiles downed three with the whole cup of water.

With the look on his face as he stood in front of him, Stiles felt like an interrogation was coming. "How do you know about werewolves?"

He swallowed hard. "My best—er, ex-best friend is one. He and I were around 12 when he was bitten in the woods. After a few years it was just a normal thing for us and he got used to it." Then he turned into a total jackass.

Derek sat down beside Stiles, who felt a little strange and slightly afraid of what he might do to him. He was really warm, though, and Stiles wanted to move closer at the same time he wanted to move away. "I never smelled any scent of another alpha wolf on you. Where is his alpha?" he enquired.

"Didn't you smell Scott?"

"I only smelt whiskey and beer. Now answer my question."

Stiles fumbled with his hands in his lap. "Well, we never found out who bit him so…"

Derek's eyes widened a bit. "His alpha left him?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. But I helped him out."

"You're not a werewolf."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Duh. But I do read. And there's something called internet."

It was silent for a moment, and then Derek made a frustrated noise, and then to clarify he said, "This is frustrating."

"What's so hard to understand?"

"Why I—How—" Derek stood up with a growl.

Stiles pushed his self really deep into the cushions. He was afraid Derek would attack him, and he remembered getting attacked by a werewolf once before. He had too many scars and bruises, and Derek was probably going to be the next to give him those marks. But the alpha—Stiles was sure Derek was an alpha, his eyes glowed red once—stopped his growling and turned back to him. Stiles was astounded to see his anger gone, but it didn't keep the fear away.

"I won't hurt you. I have more control than that."

Stiles nodded a few times, still backed into the couch.

Derek sighed and sat back down. "Sorry."

"What for?" Stiles asked quietly. Quiet always worked. Hopefully it would keep Derek from maiming him.

"I shouldn't have brought you here. I shouldn't have spied on you last night. If I didn't then I wouldn't have to tell you this."

"What?" Now curiosity took over some of his fear.

"I'm sorry." That was the second time in ten seconds he'd said that. Derek looked at his hands, which had faint hints of claws. "Your life…is…part of mine now. I can't stop myself on the next full moon from…" He paused, a breath later he went on. "If I do try and stop it, I'll die."

Stiles sucked in a deep breath of air. What happened on the next full moon? Dying if Derek doesn't? It sounded so familiar, but his damn headache was still depriving him of information, and he needed to understand. These pills sucked.

Derek turned to face him. "It's much easier that you know about werewolves."

That didn't sound good. He was scared stiff by now. Scared of Derek 'wolfing out' on him, and scared of what he was going to say. Because he apologized twice already and if he did that then something big was going to be said. Being a curious kind of person, he decided to ask, "Why is it easier?"

Derek reached his hands out to him, and Stiles looked down at them, confused. When he didn't do anything Derek pulled his hands into his own and squeezed them. It was supposed to be comforting, and it was oddly pleasant, but mostly it made this more terrifying that a strange werewolf had to comfort him. His mind went to different conclusions—like maybe Derek smelled death on him or something(Scott had smelt him when he was jacking off once, easily one of the most embarrassing moments of his life).

Then the wolf straight out said it. "Stiles, we're soul mates."

Stiles stared at him for several seconds, repeating that over and over in his head. Soul mates. Soul. Mates. Soul mates?!

He didn't know what to say. He only knew to ask. "And how do you know that?"

"My wolf tells me."

"Oh, so he's all 'hey, Derek, this guy's your soul mate' is that right?"

Derek looked irked, but he replied, "It's more of a feeling."

"And I'm supposed to trust you and your feelings? How do I know this is the truth?" And what if they were soul mates? That wasn't very fare to Stiles; he wanted to know if they were mates. Why didn't he have some voice in his head telling him that?

"I wouldn't tell you if it wasn't true. I don't usually lie."

That was sort of offensive. And what did 'usually' mean? "You're…absolutely sure it's me?"

"Yes. I want you to be with me. But I understand if…this is going to hold you down."

Stiles was good at reading people's faces. Whenever his father hid a secret, Stiles was good at getting it from him because he just knew what to look for. And Stiles saw Derek was upset. The only reason why that he could come up with was he didn't want Stiles to be forced into this mate-thing, this bond. But Derek was completely wrong. He didn't have anything to go back to, that's what running away was, so this wouldn't hold him back or whatever because he had nothing.

The only other werewolf bond he knew of was Allison and Scott. Stiles saw what it did to Scott when Allison got to Beacon Hills; everything was them. His world was Allison—everything had to do with her, everything was her. Was that what Stiles would be to Derek?

When he thought of mates and soul mates, Stiles also thought of destiny. Stiles didn't really believe in them, but maybe it was true. How else could he have left on a full moon night to get wasted in the woods and Derek magically appears to find him? It seemed to strange of a coincidence

It was kind of nice to think of the words. Soul mate: a person who was the second piece to him. A person who would love him, perhaps even love him unconditionally. That was a feeling he never wanted to go away.

He had decided. He was going to take the chance with Derek because, well, he didn't have anywhere else to go, and he seemed nice, and he was attractive, and though his place wasn't the best in the world Stiles would grow to love it and maybe he would love Derek with some time. He'd never loved anyone aside from his parents, and Lydia, his school crush.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice was a tenor filled with deep sadness; he thought Stiles was going to turn him away.

"My life sucks," Stiles said. "I ran away for a reason. What could hold me down?"

Derek grinned, and it was handsome. His eyes seemed to light up, and his smile was so perfect Stiles forced away his own. "You want to be with me?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah."

"You accept me as your alpha mate?"

Stiles rolled his eyes at the wolf nonsense and nodded again. "Yes, I do." What is this, a marriage proposal for wolves?

The excitement was easy to spot, and Derek nearly crushed his hands. "Ouch! Dude, weak human over here!"

Derek softened his grip. "Are you hungry?"

Stiles was starved. He hadn't eaten in what felt like months, so he dismissed the talk of soul mates and all his questions—why would Derek die, and what about the full moon?—to think about what he wanted to eat. "I could go for some pizza."

"I'll have Jordan bring some over." He took out his phone and messed with it, sending a text message. It was a really nice phone, too. That's probably where all his money went, instead of fixing this place up.

"Who's Jordan?"

Derek put his phone in his jeans. His very sexy jeans. Or was it just Derek that was sexy? "A member of my pack. There's also Riley and Nelson, and Trinity, my second in command."

"You have a pack?"

Derek raised a brow. "I don't think a strong alpha lives without one."

Stiles looked at the muscles in his arms, and his chest, and even his legs in those jeans—god, Derek in these jeans—and knew he was strong. Derek could easily lift him up and toss him across the room.

He excited to see what Derek's pack looked like, and even a pack in general. He'd read all about them, and secretly hoped for other werewolves to come to Beacon Hills so he and Scott could join a pack.

"I'll invite them over."

"I'll bring the booze." Stiles frowned after he said that, holding his stomach. "Never mind. You got any milk in this place, or a working fridge?"

Derek laughed. "We're not staying here if we're having my pack over. This place will be trashed all over again."

Stiles looked around. "What happened here?"

"I'll tell you some other time."

"Ooo, that sounds ominous."

\----------------------------------------

I only have one other chapter written out :( After the next one is up, it'll be a while until new ones are up. Sorry!

Next chapter you'll be meeting my original characters for Derek's pack. You might hate them, you might like them. If you do end up disliking them, they aren't a main focus so I think you can deal :)

-Eve


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